We see in every line lost,

         The last syllable isolated

                              By further loss –

Clear, blue, immobile

   Suddenly

In the word “sorrow”

   The word thundering in whiten mass.

In one direction and then the other

A strength of body, of weight

   Straining at both illusion and shadow,

Making the waves reflect this thought

                                   Of straightened point.

Formed and lost in further thought

      Capturing the mighty spear of a silent roar

                 At the point of loss.